Rosto's Confession
by Eaglefire
Summary: After Verene dies, Phelan confines himself in her room until Rosto the Piper shows up and tells him a startling tale. Oneshot.


Disclaimer: I am not Tamora Pierce, nor am I claiming I am anywhere near to her equal (though I hope some day I might be)

AN: Alrighty. This just popped into my head and I decided it was something I ought to put down. It has Terrier spoilers and, if you haven't read the book, you'll be confused. Very confused.

This is after Verene dies. It's the talk that Phelan and Rosto have afterwards. Before Phelan quits the Dogs.

R&R, please!

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Rosto's Confession

Phelan slammed the door of _her _room shut firmly. Then he looked around, blinking back tears furiously. Everything was exactly as it had been when he had kissed her goodbye before she had gone on watch: a vase of flowers on the desk, a stack of papers on the floor, the unmade bed-

Slowly, miserably, he sank into the blankets, inhaling her sweet scent. Soon, even that would be gone, and he would be completely alone.

Verene was dead.

_How _could it have happened? She had had decent Dogs, quick hands and eyes-

Her bright blue eyes flashed before him, her sweet, vivacious smile-

She would not smile anymore, and her eyes were dull, conquered by death. His hands shook as he remembered when she had been brought in. He had been looking for her- waiting for her, only for the watch to bring her in and announce that she was dead.

Her Dog, Otelia, had been _drunk_. How could it have happened? Why had Ahuda assigned her to them…?

He jerked his head up at the soft knock on the door. It was probably the landlady, who had decided to clean the room out- Phelan would pay her out of his meager wages to keep it like this, for just a few more days.

"Come in," he said, shaking voice raised only just loud enough for the woman to heard. "Ma'am, I'd like-"

"Now, if you were looking at me," someone said quietly. "I'd be insulted. As it is-" Startled, Phelan looked up to see Rosto the Piper by the door. The Dog had thought he had lost him in the streets….

Despite being on the other side of the law, Rosto and his ladies, Aniki and Kora, had taken a liking to Beka Cooper, one of the Puppies at the Jane's Street kennel. They had gone to breakfast at Beka's, with him and… others. Phelan had always liked the man, even though he was a thief. Verene had liked the cove, too-

Sighing, he looked back down at the floor. He listened as the other man's heavy footsteps led him to Phelan's side. Carefully easing himself down, as if afraid to break the fragile young man beside him, Rosto sat down.

"I bet you could walk as silent as Pounce if you wanted," Phelan said detachedly, thinking of the cat that followed Beka around. Rosto chuckled lowly. "And I bet you and yours look after each other a bit better." The Dog's fists clenched as he thought of Otelia, Verene's surviving Dog. The other one, Rollo, had been killed, too. "I see it everywhere; so many of them just don't care. Some do, but not enough. It doesn't make sense, to preserve the law when we aren't even all together."

"That's why we _break _the law, lad." Rosto stretched lazily, but his shrewd eyes were fixed on Phelan.

"Is it?" the other man wondered. Rosto eyed him for a moment. Phelan was destroyed, he knew that. But he also knew what the lad was going through, as great a surprise as that might be, even to his mots. It reminded him of another time, long, long ago- He cleared his throat.

"Listen to me, Phelan." The Dog looked up into Rosto's serious eyes. "When I was still a young cove- well, younger," he amended with a tight smile, seeing that Phelan was about to protest. "I fell in love with a mot." He sighed tiredly, then stood and wandered towards the window. Sunlight poured in; he turned his face up to it, letting it wash over him. "She was a pert little thing. And both of us were in the city guard." He looked up, a small smile on his face. "Can't see me in a group like the Dogs, can yeh?" Phelan shook his head as he stared with surprise at the cove. Even thinking of Rosto as a man with one love- instead of several dalliances- was hard to understand. Then the thief's jaw set, and his face darkened. "And I loved her. I would have married her. In fact, I was going to. She was with child. Our child." His black eyes flickered knowingly- meaningfully- at Phelan as a haunted look came into the usually merry orbs. "And we were cornered one night. She was wounded in the chest." A curiously dull, flat stare suddenly entered the man as he looked off somewhere that was very far away, separated from him by time and space. "I still remember the cove's dagger ripping through her. Ten minutes later, when somebody bothered to see what the uproar was about… she had already died in my arms." Horror spread across Phelan's face, but Rosto continued. "Even then, it wasn't any of ours- it was Kora- though I never told her the full story. She's never learned what that girl was to me," he said lowly.

"Why not?" Phelan asked through numb lips, but the man did not seem to hear.

"The trouble with your types- and there's hundreds like 'em in our ranks, don't get me wrong- is that they care that they've a paying job, and not much else. What you need to find is a close, smart group who knows what they're doing and will stay with you to the bitter end. And, in the Dogs, you're assigned partners. You're assigned mentors. You can't refuse, 'cause y' got your orders, an' that's that. You can't choose, which means decent folk with fools and incompetents die." Then the thief fell silent. Phelan stood, searching for the words to say what he was thinking.

"If I were one of you coves, I'd know where I would place my lot," he said steadily. Slowly, Rosto turned to face him. "You know you're right, about the Dogs. And I don't think I could live with those reminders, every day-"

"So become a baker." It was impossible to tell what the cove was thinking.

"But I'd like to do summat. Summat worthwhile."

"Feeding us all is very worthwhile, I can tell you now. We all appreciate it very much-" Phelan cut through Rosto's dry voice.

"I know you want to become the Rogue." Rosto cocked an eyebrow, quiet. The Dog took a deep breath. "And the Lower City needs someone to depend on, not just a handful of the Dogs that do know what they're doing. And certainly not the current Rogue." A small smile played across Rosto's face. "I don't think that's as mad as trying to keep the Lower City safe from y'all, not when the Provost Guard is so twisted, so- wrong. And-" Phelan swallowed hard before trying to smile. "-I wouldn't want to waste all that combat training for going into baking, would I? To let Ahuda's daily beatings be all for nothing…." As a joke, it was not much. But the thief chuckled all the same. "Would you have me?" Swiftly crossing the room, Rosto gripped forearms tightly with the former Dog.

"To the death, mate," he swore softly, solemnly gazing at his new ally.

"To death," Phelan agreed. A huge grin crossed Rosto's lips, and he patted the young man on the back.

"That was a bit too solemn for me," he commented cheerily. "Kayfur Deerborn better watch out now!" he laughed. Then he looked at Phelan seriously. "Let's go," he said quietly.

Phelan looked around the room for a moment. Then, a thought crossed his mind, and he could almost hear Verene, loud and cheer.

_What are you doing, moping about here? On with you! Go on! Shoo! _A soft smile came to his lips.

"I love you, Verene," he whispered, then followed Rosto out, leaving the door open to allow the sunlight to fall into the hall.

For the rest of the day, he remembered her laugh, and things she said, and things they had done- songs she had sang in her beautiful voice, bad jokes he had groaned at- instead of just her death, and what had followed. He was sure she would rather be remembered by those, anyway.

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Well? I was hoping it didn't get too Phelan being miserable and all gloomy. But I also hope it wasn't corny. Review, please? Tell me what you thought! 


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